Chapter 69 - Try Again

I wanted more. More monsters, more violence, more of that raw release to burn off the rage boiling inside me. The Primeval’s intent and desire to kill… to put things to an end. I could feel it, the pull… just tear through the city, track down anything that dared breathe in the shadows, hunt on pure instinct alone. It would be easy. Too easy. Yet, there could be unforeseen consequences. My friends, Carter, Eleanor, Frank, and the rest of them might pay the price. It held me back. Instead of plunging into chaos, I decided to take my time, and shop around for the right kind of trouble instead.

Alex and Martin, though? Total busts. Neither of them had anything solid on Charles, which irritated me more than I expected. Still, my trip to Martin’s bar wasn’t a complete waste. I found myself... weirdly relating to Alex. Her words hit harder than I’d like to admit, not because she was trying to get under my skin, but because they struck something deeper. A part of me… the side I listened to in my early days resonated with her mindset. Harsh, cynical, but honest.

She reminded me of how I used to think before I met the Chasse family, back when I kept myself locked away in that abandoned factory, hiding from the world. Back when the only thing I knew was loneliness and survival. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I wasn’t sure if I liked seeing pieces of myself reflected in her. Only she was strong enough to maintain her distance from humans. She wasn’t floating amongst them, developing relationships with those untainted by the darkness of the world. I think, in some way, Alex viewed it as weak. Not that I wanted those things… but I still allowed them for myself.

But I couldn’t dwell on it, not yet. I still had a job to do, still had to make my presence known to the elders in the pits. As much as Alex’s words swirled in my head, lingering longer than they should, I pushed forward. There was no time to get lost in my thoughts… not yet.

The early morning hours were still steeped in darkness, the sun nowhere near breaking the horizon. The world around me was draped in shadows, the kind that clung to every corner, untouched by the dim city lights. I ran, my feet pounding through the snow, untouched by the cold, my breath coming out in quick, steady clouds. As soon as I broke free from the city, I let go. The restraint I’d been holding onto slipped, and I could feel the monster seep further into my body, not just behind my eyes.

My muscles stretched, bulging unnaturally, infused with more of the Primeval’s power than I was used to. There was a creaking, almost like my bones were expanding under the weight of something vast and ancient. Every lurch of my body granted me new height, each stride eating up the snowy ground beneath me. My legs elongated, my arms felt denser, the skin stretching over what felt like coiled steel beneath. My pace quickened, the world blurring around me as my limbs propelled me forward with a raw power that surged through every part of me.

I wanted to stop, just for a moment, to look at what I had become; to take in the strangeness of my own body. But the pull to keep moving was stronger. Time was slipping, and I needed to make good on every second. Still, I could feel it. I wasn’t fully transformed, but I wasn’t human either. I existed in this strange in-between, some twisted amalgamation of myself and the monster I could fully unleash. Myoordrakien’s presence pulsed inside me, pushing at the boundaries of my skin, waiting to break free.

It was... unsettling. I had never been able to hold both forms like this before. Either I was myself, or I was the monster. But now, I was something else, something new, straddling the line between the human I once was and the unstoppable force I could become. My muscles roared with every step, and I felt invincible, yet tethered. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this balance, but for now, it was enough.

As I tore through the landscape, vaulting over fallen trees and bounding between any obstacle in my way, something clicked in my head. The blackness in my eyes, the way the Primeval gripped me tighter every day… it all felt new. Too new. There was a freshness to this power like it had been waiting for just the right moment to bloom. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that this sudden intensity wasn’t random. It had to be tied to something recent. Death.

When he visited, laid out the task ahead of me, told me about the pits… it had to be then. It had to be under my own power. The power of the monster. Not his. Death’s influence couldn’t touch me when I walked beneath the city, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe even now, just trying to get into the pits, his connection to me was a liability. I thought back to the moment he took the death blade from my hands. That’s when things started changing. The moment he stripped me of it, something inside me began to shift, like a dam breaking, releasing more of the Primeval into me. Almost like the power Death granted me kept the Primeval in check… feeding it, keeping it sated in some way.

The blade was strange, able to morph into whatever tool its bearer needed. When John had it, it became a rifle, tied to his past as a man from what I could only guess were the Wild West days. He never said it outright, but the way he spoke, and the things he hinted at, gave me that feeling.

When the gun came to me, though, it didn’t stay a rifle for long. Almost instantly, it molded itself into a blade; familiar, like the ones I’d used with the Chasse family. It held the same carved names and symbols of the rifle, like echoes of all who had wielded it before, but it felt personal, tailored to me. I wondered if I could will it into any shape I wanted someday, given enough time. But that didn’t matter now, because I didn’t have it anymore. Death had revoked it. The connection I once felt, that slight tug at the edges of my mind where it hovered just out of reach, was gone.

Too much power. That had to be it. The blade carried too much of Death’s signature, and if I held onto it, whatever was lurking down in the pits would sense him. It would know… and run. So, Death took it back, leaving me with only the monster inside me. No shortcuts. No crutch. Just me and Myoordrakien, the Primeval. I had to learn more about it… become more of it if I was going to succeed. The thought unsettled me… diving deeper into the thing I feared most, the monster I was terrified of fully becoming. It was a dark abyss, one I wasn’t sure I could crawl out of once I went down in there.

Alex’s words echoed in my mind, and no matter how much I hated hearing them, they were true. I was a monster. I’d proven that over and over with the blood I spilled, the bones I crushed, and the gore I left behind in my wake. My struggles weren’t proof of anything but that. It wasn’t just in my eyes now, or the flash of teeth that appeared when I let my guard down. It was deeper than that, and every day I felt myself inching closer to the edge. The edge of losing who I was… who I thought I once was. The real me. But for now, all I could do was keep running and hope that when it was over… when I’d made it through the pits, I was still something I could recognize. Something human.

I had made it far out of the city to the Rockwoods Reservation, where the Talbot pack resided. I paced the woods outside of their single-story home. A real farmhouse kind of vibe you would see on a ranch or something back home. I sent out a pulse tuning my senses with it, detecting many different beating hearts inside. In all the time that I knew the Talbots I only interacted with Jane, and sometimes Bran. But Bran was dead now, killed by that massive fucking bat that came from Cliff Cave. The place that Allen Chasse summoned me when I was running across the country; name after name, vision after vision… killing those death called for. Now that Bran was dead, Jane was literally the only Talbot I had much rapport with.

I felt the Primeval back off, and I eased out of the strange transitional stage I was in, back to my full human form. Except for my black eyes and the new points I had on my four fangs. My clothes weren’t ripped, but they did feel loose. I think they might have gotten stretched out a bit from the growth and extreme physical exertion at that stage. I was me again… somewhat, and I was ready to talk.

So, I waited. The night stretched out around me, cold and silent, but my mind was anything but still. My eyes tracked every movement around the house, every flicker of light in the windows, every shadow slipping past. I could hear the pattern of footsteps on the linoleum, muffled voices drifting through the air, and people moving in and out, but none of them were her. I didn’t see Jane.

At first, I thought maybe she was just inside, caught up in something, and any minute now, she’d step out. But as the minutes ticked by, a knot of worry began to tighten in my chest. My stomach churned, the cold gnawing at me as I shifted my weight, trying to shake off the unease creeping in. Where was she?

I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander back to her and Frank. They’d been living together for a while now, no longer hiding their relationship. At first, they tried to keep things quiet, thinking it was best to keep their feelings under wraps. But that was mostly Jane. She was the one who believed it had to be this way, that keeping Frank at a distance was the right thing to do. Frank... he was different. If it were up to him, he’d have stayed by her side his whole life, never once thinking of leaving. He loved her, deeply, and always had. But Jane... Jane had walked away.

She thought it was best for him, to protect him. From what exactly, I wasn’t sure, but knowing her, it was probably from herself. Jane had always carried this burden, this belief that she was dangerous, that her presence was somehow a risk to the people she cared about. So, she’d cut ties. For a while, she’d left Frank behind, thinking it was what he needed. But now they were back together, and I could see the way he looked at her… like nothing in the world mattered more than her.

Where Alex was a reflection of the version of myself from the beginning of my time as this monster, Jane was the more recent version. She had distanced herself… pulling away like I had. However, she had found her way back, and she was still in it. Part of me… wanted to talk to her… maybe get her advice. See if she had any gems of wisdom for me like Alex had.

But tonight, she was missing.

A stray thought hit my mind, what if Autumn cut ties with me for some similar reason? What if she cast me out, with no word or warning, to protect me from something greater? What if that brush and Patrick's secret connection to Peter Grimwood held some dark secrets that no one else was privy to? Autumn was the only one who knew and she was protecting me…

I shook off the thoughts, hoping that was not the case. As much as I wanted there to be a reason, so I could find that reason and fucking slaughter it, the thought that she was happy held some value. I cared a lot about Autumn.. more than I ever told her or thought possible for me now. I would have done anything for her, just like I would have done anything for Vicky to keep her safe… just as I did. If she was truly happy now, and that was probably the case from what it seemed, then I would leave her alone. It was strange, being caught in a bizarre position of caring enough for her that I just wanted her to be happy, even if that was not with me; but also caring so much for her and feeling our bond, knowing that what she had done was so outlandish and just did not make sense. There had to be some other kind of reason behind it, to explain why she was acting the way she was.

She had never even spoken to me. She had just forgotten me completely, going back to Patrick with so much zeal... Never looking back to even acknowledge me or let me know she was over it. It did not make sense. But I resolved to accept that it didn't have to make sense for me. If she wanted me gone… wanted someone else… I told her I'd leave. If it made sense to her... I didn’t feel it was my place to question her. I was honestly… deep in the darkest parts of what was left of my humanity, thankful for the time I had with her. She gave me something that I didn’t think I would ever have again. Not since I had to leave Vicky and my whole life behind.

I snapped back to reality, shaking off the dark spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull me under. The cold air bit at my skin, grounding me as I blinked, bringing the world around me into focus again. The sun had crept through the horizon, and the winter wonderland started to light up around me. That’s when I saw her… someone stepping out of Jane’s front door. A young girl, maybe high school age, or perhaps early college. She moved with the ease of someone athletic, her stride confident and unhurried. Her build was solid but lean, like someone who spent their days outside, running or playing sports. There was something about her that struck me as familiar.

She shared a striking resemblance to Jane. Not quite as tall or imposing as the alpha werewolf, but the family resemblance was clear. Even from a distance, I could see her piercing blue eyes that were set apart from Jane’s light brown, though they were set against a rich, deep tone of skin that hinted at Native American heritage. Her straight black hair flowed down her back, catching the faint glimmers of light that leaked through the trees, adding to the impression that she belonged to Jane’s lineage. The contrast of her blue eyes against Jane's brown was intriguing, but the connection was undeniable with everything else. I didn’t know her name or where she fits into the family tree, but I was certain she was close to Jane; someone important.

Without hesitation, I made my move.

The darkness of the trees swallowed me as I slipped through the lingering shadows, moving swiftly, silently. I appeared beside her like a wraith, my figure suddenly materializing from the early dawn. I was still a good ten feet away, giving her some space, but I knew the way I had come out of nowhere would send a jolt through her system. And I wasn’t wrong.

The moment she sensed my presence, her eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught in her throat. I could see the exact second she realized I was there… her body stiffened, and her head whipped around, eyes almost bulging out of her skull when she caught sight of me. Even though I hadn’t closed the gap entirely, my sudden appearance in the sparse shadows was enough to set her on edge, the air between us crackling with the tension of her alarm.

My senses quickly informed me that this girl was definitely a werewolf. She held the family curse just like Jane. Her heart kicked up a notch with a powerful thud that ramped up from her normal pace but did not skyrocket like a terrified human. It ramped up to a new set speed that sounded like a booming metronome within her core. It was the heart of a cursed beast surging its primal power through her body. It was her own version of a fight or flight response.

She turned her body quickly, superhumanly so, and swung an open hand at me. It was coming for my face, and I let it get pretty close before I snatched it out of the air. I just gripped her wrist and stopped her momentum. We stood there locked in a strange greeting. She could feel my speed and the strength that held her in place, knowing that whatever I was she had no chance against me. I was gauging what I witnessed in that quick strike. She held her hand in a way that made me think claws or maybe talons, like mine, would come out and visibly extend. However, no such claws erupted. It almost seemed like she was acting and moving the way she would in her werewolf form, but the physical attributes just were not there.

I moved quickly, trying to defuse the tension hanging thick in the air between us. The girl's eyes were wide, her body coiled like a spring, ready to attack or flee at any moment. I raised my free hand slowly, palm open, keeping my voice low and steady. "My name is Sam," I said, watching her closely. "I know Jane, and I’m here to talk to her."

My eyes flicked to her hand, still held in a half-raised defensive position, and I gently released her wrist, giving her space. Slowly, she retracted her arm, though the wariness in her eyes didn’t fade immediately.

“I’m not here to hurt anybody. Is she here?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, trying to soften the sharpness of the situation. The girl stared at me for a moment, as if sizing me up, taking slow, deliberate breaths to steady herself. I could hear her heartbeat, still rapid but gradually slowing, the rush of adrenaline easing as she composed herself.

“I’m Abigail,” she finally said, her voice strained but steady. Her hand lowered fully now, and she took a step back, giving herself a few feet of space. The tension still lingered, thick and palpable, but she wasn’t retreating. Not yet, anyway. She knew I was a threat on some level, but whether she knew exactly who… or what, I was, I couldn’t tell. Her eyes flicked over me cautiously, studying my face in the low light of her front yard.

“Jane told us about you...” she added after a pause. “She says you’re unusual. Different. We’re not supposed to interact with you without her.”

I frowned, catching the hesitation in her voice, the way she seemed to be fighting some internal command. “Who said that? Jane?” I asked, watching the way she shifted uncomfortably, the weight of rules pulling at her like invisible chains. It was clear now that Jane had given orders. I could sense the battle in Abigail’s mind, her desire to follow whatever law had been laid down.

“Yeah,” Abigail confirmed, her lips twitching into a brief smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “None of us are supposed to be around you alone. She said if we ever had to deal with you, she’d be the one to... work with you.” There was a flicker of amusement in her voice now, a thin veil of humor to cut through the awkwardness. “I guess she never expected you to show up for a house call.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’ve never really needed to just drop by,” I admitted, keeping my tone casual. “But I wanted to ask her some questions.” My gaze softened a bit as I looked at her. "Maybe you have some knowledge I could use?"

Abigail’s curiosity sparked instantly, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Like what?” she asked, momentarily forgetting herself, drawn in by the question. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in thought.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to you,” I teased lightly, letting my black eyes show more in the dim morning light. They glinted darkly, giving her a glimpse of the Primeval power lurking beneath my skin. The shift in her expression was immediate… her grin faded, and her posture straightened with a sudden awareness. She caught herself, nodding stiffly, the playful moment gone. The physical response to survive crept back in.

Without another word, she pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed. I could hear snippets of her conversation, the sharp, quiet exchanges as she spoke into the phone, her eyes darting back to me every few seconds. “No, he’s not.” “Yes, he is.” “He looks... weird.” “Black eyes... really strong.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

A minute later, Abigail walked back over to me, her face now carefully neutral. “Jane will be home soon,” she said, her voice clipped, businesslike. Then, without another glance, she turned and headed back inside, leaving me standing there.

I watched her retreat, my eyes drifting toward the darkened windows of the house. I could hear the faint murmur of voices inside, the way they whispered about the “creepy man” outside, the one Jane had warned them all about. It was almost comical, in a way, like I had become some sort of bedtime story; a monster lurking in the shadows, someone they’d been told never to seek out, never to speak to, or even acknowledge.

It would’ve been funny if it didn’t sting so much.

I let out a low breath, my shoulders sinking under the weight of it. That’s what I was to them… a monster. No matter how much I tried to fit in, no matter how hard I fought to hold on to whatever scraps of humanity I had left, I was still something to be feared… by all. Even this pack of werewolves. Something that made young girls and children hide behind the walls of their homes, whispering warnings and stories about the thing outside. The thing that shouldn’t be there.

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, though the sound was hollow, empty. Another reminder of what I was becoming, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. That deep part of me, the part that still longed to be human. It felt the sting.

About half an hour later, the sound of packed snow crunching under tires signaled Jane’s arrival. I looked up as the rusty, beaten-up truck rolled into view. It was Frank’s truck; the old bucket of bolts he was so proud of. I had ridden in it more times than I could count, back in the early days when the Chasse family and I still had some semblance of normalcy. When I worked for their company and was living a ruse, pretending to be human.

The truck came to a stop, and I saw Jane climb out of the passenger side, her eyes immediately finding mine. A second later, the driver’s side door opened, and Frank hopped out. He looked almost exactly the same as I remembered; tall, broad, and muscular, though there was a little more weight around his deeper muscles. Not enough to slow him down, just enough to make his presence even more solid. I could hear his voice in my head from back then, "Just enough to throw some weight around." That was Frank… always joking, always warm and welcoming to me.

Frank and Jane walked toward me slowly, Jane’s eyes never leaving mine. There was no hostility in her gaze, but there was caution. I could see the weariness that came with knowing what I was, what I had become in everyone’s eyes as I did the things I did; with little to no explanation. She was unsure why I’d come to her directly, not through Frank or the rest of the Chasse family. Jane and I had never had much direct interaction before. Frank had always been the intermediary… or Carter. But… she had brought Frank, and now things would get more heavy.

“Sam,” she greeted me, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. “I haven’t seen or heard much about you in a while. Just bits and pieces from Frank, but even that’s not much.” She motioned towards the lumbering man, who stared at me silently, trying to gauge what to say. Trying to figure out why my eyes looked the way they did.

“Hey, Jane. It’s good to see you,” I replied, my voice rougher than I intended. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping my distance… ever since Autumn…” I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat. The emotions I’d been holding back for so long surged up, threatening to break free. I clenched my teeth, struggling to keep it together, and let out a sharp breath. “Once she cut ties, I thought it’d be best to stay away. I know what I am, and I don’t want to… force my way into a situation, because… well, who could stop me?” I forced a laugh.

Jane’s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Frank, who gave me a small nod of understanding.

Frank finally spoke, “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Even Carter thought you’d probably put some distance between everyone after what Autumn did.” Frank's words held back a lot of emotion. Even through all the shit that had happened, he still saw me standing in front of him. He could see through the black eyes and the menacing aura that rolled off of me. I was still the same to him.

It hurt to think that was true… knowing what I hadn’t told them yet. That Death itself was my master, and the monster inside was more ancient than anything they'd ever known.

His words hit harder than I expected. Jane also looked genuinely saddened, though she tried to cover it up quickly. She shifted on her feet, then spoke more openly than I’d anticipated. “I really am sorry about what she did, Sam. So is Frank. None of it makes sense... if I’m honest. It all happened so fast, right after everything with Peter. I think we’re all still trying to figure out what happened with him, that he’s really gone. And the aftermath… it’s been a lot.”

“We lost a lot, Sam. Now, it feels like we lost you too…” Frank shook his head. “You aren’t slipping away again are you?”

I shook my head, “No. There’s just something I need to do… have to do!”

“With Seth?” Frank asked, his strong demeanor like glass with this question. He was worried about me, and how I was taking the news of my brother's arrival in the city. He was more worried about me than the chaos Seth was causing for his own family.

I looked back at him with surprise, realizing he thought I was still dealing with it. That's when I realized, they didn’t know. I never told them; Carter, Frank, none of them that I had dealt with that problem.

“Seth’s gone,” I told him. “I took care of that,” I assured him with confidence in my voice.

“How do you mean?” Frank cocked his head to the side.

Even Jane looked surprised by my words. She must have been in the loop on everything, knowing just how badly they all thought I would take my brother's arrival.

“I went to him… showed myself. He knows… knows that I’m alive. He doesn’t know everything. I kept a lot from him. But I explained that it was me who used his information… his passport,” I shook my head. “Like a dumbass. But he went home… for now. I have to go back there eventually… piece together whatever I can.”

“So, he knows… they know you're still alive?” Frank asked incredulously. Never thinking once that I might do what I had done.

I nodded. “Yeah. I had to tell him. I needed him out of this city. I couldn’t let him get hurt because of my mistake.”

“Will he tell the rest of your family?” Jane was curious.

“Honestly… I don’t know. I don’t think so. We were pretty similar. I think just knowing… he’ll be able to live and breathe easier. I think he’ll wait until he hears back from me before he tells anyone anything.”

Frank finally stepped forward, his massive frame towering over me for a moment before he pulled me into a rough hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you,” he said, his voice low. There was no hesitation in his embrace, just that solid, unshakable strength that had always been a part of him.

I returned the hug, the tension in my chest loosening slightly. “You too, Frank. It feels like it's been too long.”

He let go and gave me a once-over, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to assess just how much had changed since the last time we saw each other. “A lot’s happened, man,” he said, shaking his head. “More than we ever expected.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice quiet. “Things have changed, haven’t they?” I nodded, the weight of his words sinking deep. “I know. I’ve been trying to stay away because I don’t want to make things worse. But I can’t lie, Frank. I miss how things used to be. Before I became this... thing. Before it started… taking more ground from me.”

“Is that what the eyes are about?” Frank asked, motioning toward my black orbs, inspecting me slowly.

“Yeah… just another side effect… I guess. I'm not sure if it's permanent, or what. But I can't make them go away.” I gritted my teeth as I tried… but nothing.

Frank clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm. “You’re still you, Sam. I don’t care what look like, you’re still the same guy I welcomed into this family. I mean, sure, you’re a little more... intense now.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but there was no denying the truth behind his words. “But we’re family. Always have been; the moment you saved Eleanor.”

Jane stood quietly beside us, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange. There was something like relief in her eyes... relief that Frank and I could still connect after everything that had happened. “Why don’t we sit down?” she suggested, gesturing to the front yard.

“What happened with Peter, Sam? We know he’s dead, but how?” Frank asked as we all dusted off a place for us to sit on the frost-covered porch. The cold of the chair's surfaces crept through our clothing, sending a biting chill into our flesh.

I breathed slowly, nodding to myself. “There is a lot I know now… and a lot I want to tell you all. But it's… heavy.” I warned them.

“Like what?” Jane asked, feeling the weight of my tone. She knew that, if I said it was heavy, it must be something real bad.

“This thing I turn into… it has a name… a purpose. It has a master too. Someone who has been… grooming me in a way. Ever since I was cursed to live this life.” I just started pouring out the secrets, hoping to talk to someone about all this fucked up shit. I ignored the side of me that said to hide it all.

“Whatever it is, Sam, it’ll be alright…” Frank assured me.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” I thought aloud. “I told Autumn first… she didn’t take it well. That was the last time I talked to her. After I told her the truth, she flocked back towards Patrick…” I told the silent pair.

“You told Autumn this already? When?” Frank asked, truly confused.

“When I first came back… from somewhere else. It’s hard to explain... without telling you other things first. But when I returned, we talked. I had to tell her the truth, to be honest, and let her know what I was. Then, she could decide if it was too much. I guess I found out.” I thought back on my conversation with her.

“She’s never mentioned anything like that,” Frank spoke up. “Neither Carter nor Eleanor either. If you ever found anything out, we all would have known. Not to say we wouldn’t keep a secret or something, but obviously, we keep our internal family as informed as possible on important shit like this,” Frank looked at Jane, true confusion and frantic thoughts written on his face. “Why would she not tell us?”

As we sat in the morning light of Jane’s front yard, the air thick with the weight of the conversation that had yet to happen, I decided to just do it. I was going to tell them. This had ended horribly the last time… with Autumn, but maybe this way I could see if it really was the knowledge that repelled her.

Frank leaned against the chilled armrest of his porch chair, arms crossed, while Jane sat nearby, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. They knew something was coming, something that I hadn’t yet said. They could see it in the way I focused my black eyes, preparing myself, fighting with an internal struggle.

I shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through my hair, pushing my hood back and off my head. I was unsure how to start. The truth I was about to lay on them wasn’t something easily spoken. It had taken me forever to wrap my head around it, and even now, I still didn’t fully understand it. But they needed to know.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I began, my voice low, heavy. “Something… you’re not going to believe at first, but it’s the truth.”

Frank raised an eyebrow, his usually confident demeanor slipping as uncertainty crept into his expression. Jane stayed silent, her arms crossed, waiting.

“You’ve both seen what I’ve become,” I continued, gesturing to myself. “The black eyes, the talons, the strength. But it’s not just a physical transformation. What’s inside me…it’s not… natural. Not even supernatural. This is something… beyond all that.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “We figured that much, Sam. You’re different… sure, but we’ve all seen werewolves and vampires; hell, we’ve seen things that aren’t even recorded in any bestiary or record of anyone we know. What’s so different about you? You’re just something that hasn’t been pinned down yet.”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “It’s not just a monster inside me, Frank. It’s something called… a Primeval. It has a name… but it's not really words. I heard it once… the noise sounded like Myoordrakien. But…” I searched for a way to explain it. “With like a lot more power, spoken slower, with noises I don’t think I can make.”

Both Frank and Jane flinched at the name, their eyes widening in shock.

“Myoordrakien,” I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue with a weight I could feel in my bones. “He’s ancient. Older than anything you’ve ever encountered, older than the monsters that roam this city, or the ones below it. It’s older than anything you’ve ever read about… or heard about. It was a part of something primordial, something from a time when the world was still… shaping itself.”

Jane’s face paled as she processed what I was saying. “What… what does that mean? How did you hear this?” she asked quietly. “What is he?”

“He’s not just some creature, Jane,” I explained, my voice soft but firm. “Not in the way you all think. He is a physical being... but more than that...he’s a force. A being of destruction, doom… annihilation. He was born at a time when life was raw, and untamed, when parts of our world weren’t just aspects and… but a physical presence; a force that swept through everything. Myoordrakien was part of that.”

Frank uncrossed his arms, “You’re saying this thing inside you… it’s from before everything?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s not something that just came into existence recently. He’s been around for longer than I can comprehend. But…” I braced myself. “There’s another thing. He’s not the one pulling the strings.”

Jane looked at me, her brow furrowing in confusion. “The entity… from the fields? The one Eleanor saw when you took her there… traded your life for hers?”

I nodded. I felt my heart thud in my chest as I prepared to drop the real bombshell. “Death,” I said, my voice flat. “Death itself.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Frank and Jane stared at me, mouths slightly open, as if they hadn’t heard me right. They didn’t move. They didn’t look at each other. They just sat there, thinking in silence.

“Death,” Frank echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like… Death?”

I nodded again, feeling the weight of what I was saying. “It was Death who reached out to me, who took my life and cursed me, through Jon… the previous host of Myoordrakien. The Primeval’s power might be inside me, but Death is the one who controls it… contains it. Death’s the one who gives me visions, who tells me the names of those I’m supposed to hunt… and kill.”

Jane’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “You’re saying… Death itself cursed you? Made you… it's killer? You work for Death?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice hoarse. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m Death’s weapon. His hand in the physical world. The one who carries out his will in places he cannot enter.”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, running a hand over his face. He stood from his Chair. “Jesus, Sam,” he muttered, pacing a few steps. “That’s… that’s insane.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But it’s the truth. Death chose me. Cursed me to carry out his work. I see people, names, faces… and I know they’re marked. I know I’m the one who has to make sure they die.”

"Is that how you finally killed Peter?" Frank asked, trying to piece things together.

I nodded slowly.

Jane took a step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and pity. “Why you, Sam? Why did Death choose you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the frustration clear in my voice. “I’ve asked myself that a thousand times. Maybe I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe I did something that caught his attention. But all I know is that I’m bound to him now. And there’s no way out.” I remembered something, “Jon, my predecessor, said something to me once. Something about my… willpower… or something.” It was hard to remember at the moment. “Said he knew my name… that I was next in line to carry the Primeval inside me. He said he knew my name for a long time.”

Frank stopped pacing, turning to face me again. “You told Autumn this?”

I nodded, feeling a knot tighten in my chest at the mention of her name. “Yeah. I told her everything. About Myoordrakien, about Death. She… she didn’t take it well.”

Jane frowned, worry creeping into her features. “What did she say?”

“She didn’t say much, honestly,” I said, my voice heavy with guilt. “She just… looked at me like I was a monster. She actually got up and fled away from me. Maybe she’s right. I mean, I am one, aren’t I… a monster?”

Frank’s eyes locked onto mine, fierce, unwavering, as if he could will his belief into me with just a look. His grip on my shoulder tightened, and I could feel the callouses on his hand, the roughness of a life lived through countless battles, both physical and emotional. He leaned in closer, his voice low but powerful, a weight behind every word that echoed deeper than any of the night’s shadows around us.

“No,” Frank said again, his voice firm with a finality that left no room for argument. “You’re not just some monster, Sam. You’re still you… still, the same guy we’ve known… the same guy that slung concrete with me at those construction sites. The same guy who hunted with us… trained with us, ate with us, laughed with us. This thing inside you… and Death… it doesn’t change that. You’ve been this way the whole damn time I’ve known you. Putting a name to it now doesn’t change anything.”

He let that sit for a moment, his gaze searching mine, looking for the part of me that could still believe in what he was saying. But I felt hollow, lost under the weight of what I had told them. How could I still be the same person when I had this thing lurking inside me, waiting for the next command from Death, for the next name to hunt down? Waiting to slip more between the bars of its cage to take over my body in even more twisted ways.

“It’s not about what you’ve got inside,” Frank continued, his voice softening just a touch, though his resolve didn’t falter. “It’s about what you’ve done with it. You’ve saved us, saved our family… saved others too. You think that’s nothing? You’ve done things no one else could do. Hell, I don’t give a damn what this Myoordrakien is called. It’s just a name. What matters is that you’ve used it to help.”

Frank sighed, his broad shoulders slumping slightly as he stared at the ground for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He wasn’t trying to sugarcoat it; he knew how heavy this all was, how impossible it sounded. But when he looked up again, his face was full of that stubbornness I’d come to expect from him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he added, giving my shoulder another squeeze, his fingers digging in like he was anchoring me to the moment. “This shit is heavy. It’s more than any of us can probably wrap our heads around, but that doesn’t change a damn thing about who you are to me, or to Jane, or to anyone who knows you. This thing? This Primeval or whatever the hell it is? It doesn’t change shit.”

His hand clapped down on my shoulder again with a familiar, reassuring weight, like it had so many times before when things were hard, when I needed grounding. But this time, the heaviness inside me… the crushing presence of Myoordrakien, the constant pull of Death… it made that familiar gesture feel distant, like I was watching myself from behind glass, unable to connect with who I once was.

I shook my head, my throat tightening as the words stumbled out. “It doesn’t feel like I’m me anymore, Frank. Not with how much I feel it, how it’s always trying to take over.”

Frank’s grip on my shoulder didn’t budge, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes now. He knew I wasn’t just talking about some passing feeling. Myoordrakien wasn’t a wolf or a vampire hunger… this thing was primal, elemental. It was destruction.

Jane, who had been silent, stepped closer, her hand gently resting on my arm. The touch was soft, warm, and human. I could almost feel her battling the urge to recoil from me. I couldn’t blame her. “Sam…” she began, her voice calm, though there was an edge of fear there. “We’ll figure this out. Whatever it is, we’ll find a way. You’re not alone in this.”

I looked at her, feeling the depth of her words, but also knowing the weight of what she was saying. “Jane… I’ve seen what this thing can do. You’ve seen a part of it too. It wants death. And Death… he’s always watching. Always waiting to tell me who’s next.”

Jane’s eyes flickered with understanding, and then with something darker. “I know what it’s like,” she said softly, her fingers pressing against my arm as if to make me feel the gravity of her words. “I’ve battled against my curse since the day it took hold. The wolf inside me claws at me, Sam. It wants to feed, to tear apart flesh and consume everything in its path. Not just the killers or the evil ones of the world. Everyone. It doesn’t care about who’s innocent or not.”

Her confession hung in the air between us, raw and painful. Jane, the one who always seemed to have a handle on her curse, was telling me how close she teetered on the edge every day.

“I understand what you’re fighting,” she whispered. “But you don’t have to fight it alone. You can’t fight it alone.”

Frank was nodding beside her, his face softer now, less of the blunt strength he was known for, and more of the deep care he had for his family. For me.

“I know you think this thing inside you makes you dangerous, Sam,” Frank said, his voice quieter now. “And maybe it does. But that doesn’t make you any less of a person. You’re still here, still fighting. And as long as you’re fighting, we’re with you. All of us; Carter, El, Wayland, and Clara…”

I stared at the ground, my hands clenched into fists. “I told Autumn,” I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I told her all this… why did she react the way she did? You guys… this is more than I ever thought I would get for telling this secret. Why did she reject it?”

Jane’s hand tensed on my arm, and Frank looked at me sharply. There was a long silence as that truth settled over us. Frank exhaled slowly, his face tight with worry, while Jane’s expression softened with a mixture of sympathy and guilt.

“She’s scared,” Jane finally said, her voice gentle. “She’s confused. We all are. After everything with Peter… losing Annabelle, Bartley, and Zeke… we were all hit hard. Maybe she just found out your secret too soon. Everything was too fresh… maybe”.

Frank shook his head, “No. That doesn’t make sense. Autumn wouldn’t have ghosted you like that. And she definitely wouldn’t have kept this a secret from us.” Frank looked down at his feet. Then he pulled out his phone. “Something’s wrong. This isn’t right. I need to call Carter.”